Tainted Love
by poly styrene
Summary: Voldemort plans how to finally bring about Harry’s downfall following HP5 using a weapon that is completely unexpected. However, one person’s betrayal can be the difference between life and death for not only Harry, but the two people closest to him
1. Prologue

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DISCLAIMER  
I am not JK Rowling. If I was, I would be worth more than the Queen of England, and I could pay people to write slashy fanfiction for me. However, I am not JK Rowling. All characters and settings that appear in this story, unless otherwise noted, belong to her. The storyline, however, belongs to me – so don't steal or I'll hex you. The title, "Tainted Love", came from a Softcell song by the same name. It's a good song, and if you haven't heard it, I highly recommend it.  
  
**SUMMARY**   
Voldemort plans how to finally bring about Harry's downfall following HP5 using a weapon that is completely unexpected. However, one person's betrayal can be the difference between life and death for not only Harry, but the two people closest to him... [insert dramatic drumroll]  
  
**SPOILER ALERT!**   
This fanfiction takes place AFTER the events of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. It will contain heavy spoilers, so if you have not read the 5th book, (a) SHAME ON YOU and (b) you may want to stop reading here.  
  
**RATING  
**Rated PG-13 for language, sexual implications later on, and mild slash. Flames are always fun, but constructive criticism is far better. I'm not quite sure where this is going, so let me know if I should continue.  
  
**MISC.**   
This chapter was posted earlier, under a different penname, but I have updated it a little bit, so hopefully it is better than last time.

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**TAINTED LOVE**  
_A fanfiction by **poly styrene**_  
  
PROLOGUE  
  
Bellatrix Lestrange's dark hair fell into her face as she stared at the floor, looking for all the world like a mischievous child being reprimanded. "Master," she said quietly, her breath catching. "I have... I failed you. I am unworthy to live, unworthy for you to set your eyes upon."  
  
Voldemort sneered. "Very observant, Bella. You have never been mentally incompetent." He strode across the room to the window and stared moodily at the harsh landscape sprawling as far as the eye could see. "However, you are much too loyal and valuable to kill, which you know as well as I."  
  
Bellatrix nodded gracefully, her eyes lifting from the floor as she gazed at the Dark Lord through her thick lashes. A small smile played about her lips. Indeed, she did know how valuable she was.  
  
"However, since you have failed, we will have to use her after all," continued the cruel voice. Voldemort turned to see the effect this statement had on her; he smirked in satisfaction when she stared evenly back at him without a flinch.  
  
"Very well. He knows what his role is to be, I have trained him well." Bellatrix, too, crossed over to the window and stared at the frozen lawns of Malfoy Manor. "He has attracted so little attention thus far at Hogwarts, it is very unlikely that he will be suspected of anything."  
  
Voldemort shrugged, a gesture that was intimidating at best on his tall dark figure. "It is too bad that he had not managed to get into a different house."  
  
Bellatrix nodded sorrowfully. "That is too bad. However, he was only eleven. The Sorting Hat is notoriously hard to hoodwink, you know. I was obviously not close by to instruct him, and with you still being too weak to be helpful..." The Dark Lord shot her a nasty glare, and a low sound, almost like a growl, emerged from his throat. Bellatrix seemed not to notice. She was the only one who could get away with speaking to him like that. "He was relying almost entirely on Quirrel," she continued smoothly. "It's a miracle he landed where he did, or our plan would be ruined."  
  
The Dark Lord snorted. "Quirrel was a waste of time and energy. I regret the necessity."  
  
"Had that idiot succeeded, we would all be in a much better position than we are now," sighed Bellatrix. "Nevertheless, with the Ministry under the control of that bumbling fool Fudge, the Dementors firmly supporting us, and the wizarding world's late realization of its... circumstances, we have nearly every advantage that we could ask for."  
  
"Do not underestimate the importance of Black's death," Voldemort said softly, almost gently. "Harry Potter is now destabilized, emotionally." He stepped very close to Bellatrix, and the smell of slightly rotten flesh filled her nostrils. Rather than backing away, she inhaled deeply, her eyes closing. Voldemort continued, his low whisper echoing in her ears. "And you and I both know very well, Bella, that allowing emotions to overwhelm oneself is the very first sign of a downfall." He buried one claw-like hand in her long, dark hair, and raked her scalp with his nails.  
  
"My Lord," she crooned, as he traced her jaw line with a dark finger. "What will we do about Dumbledore?"  
  
Voldemort laughed triumphantly. "He feels guilt, Bellatrix. He did not tell Potter about the Prophecy, and because the boy was not aware of its existence, he went chasing after Black." He smiled terribly. "Dumbledore's conscience is tainted forever, especially because he knows how close Potter and Black were."  
  
Bellatrix matched his horrible smile, her eyes alight with understanding. "Of course... the fool never revealed the Prophecy. Potter may yet recover, that remains to be seen..." Her smile grew wider. "But Dumbledore will never be the same."  
  
"Precisely." Voldemort pulled away so abruptly that she nearly fell. Apparently oblivious to the longing gaze penetrating the thick lashes, he threw open the double doors of the Malfoys' parlor with an air of importance, and recognized the man waiting impatiently in the hall. "Lucius, you may enter now."  
  
Lucius Malfoy swept into the room with an air of grandeur, his black robes swirling. His silvery eyes narrowed into a glare as he saw Bellatrix standing by the window.  
  
"Good morning, Lucius," she drawled smugly.  
  
"Bellatrix," he replied, acknowledging her with a cold nod.

"You would think," snapped Bella coldly, "that Azkaban had improved your manners."

Lucius shrugged, acting supremely indifferent. "Apparently not."  
  
Voldemort noted this clipped, bitter dialogue with satisfaction. He led a stubborn Lucius over to the window. "Come now, Lucius, no hard feelings... we're all adults now, let's be civilized, shall we?" Lucius nodded, jaw tightly clenched. "I believe that you have been told and understand the plan. You now must fetch the boy," Voldemort ordered, ignoring the elder Malfoy's flinch. "Report back to me when you have him under control."  
  
Lucius's curiosity overcame his anger and shame momentarily. "Have him under control?" he questioned, confused.  
  
"Of course, you fool," snapped Bellatrix, loosing her patience with her former lover. "You are aware of the expectations, are you not? And you think that he is positively thrilled with his assignment, do you? He'll not come easily."  
  
"Do not forget," replied Lucius, the silkiness in his tone barely masking his hatred. "He is my son as well."  
  
"Might as well not be," snorted Bellatrix, her voice tight with fury, "for all the attention you've given him."  
  
Lucius rolled his eyes, almost like a teenager hearing a familiar lecture. "I sent the money, did I not?"  
  
"But not your time!" hissed Bellatrix, her fists clenched. "You lavished Draco with fatherly approval and praise... tried to prepare him for the plan... but you failed with Draco, did you not?" Bellatrix's voice held a note of smug satisfaction, and it increased as she went on. "Perhaps it is a good thing, after all, that you had no contact with your other son."  
  
"You will blame Draco for something that he inherited? Hating Mudbloods is as much a part of him as his dashing good looks, both of which he got from me. Your son may be better at deceit and lies, Bellatrix... he may be able to pretend that he is something he is not. But then, he is your son."  
  
Bellatrix's temper exploded. "HE'S YOUR FUCKING SON, TOO!" she screamed, her hand shooting for her wand.  
  
Voldemort stepped between them, neatly interrupting the spat. "The boy, Lucius. NOW."  
  
Lucius bowed to the Dark Lord, and nodded to Bellatrix. He turned and strode from the room, fingering his wand, knowing that Bellatrix would still be holding hers. He slammed the doors behind him, knowing that it would irk her.  
  
It did. "You don't even acknowledge Lucius as my son's father... You told him to bring 'the boy.' Why?" hissed Bellatrix, turning on Voldemort.  
  
"Bella..." he crooned, wrapping her in his arms. His breath was hot on her bare neck. Slowly, he lowered his teeth and scraped them across her skin, creating several clean, shallow cuts. "Some things are not important."

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**EDIT  
**Thanks very much to **Lady Norbert** for pointing out that Lucius was in Azkaban at the end of the 5th book - you're absolutely right, of course.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE  
**In case there's any confusion, which there is, I think: Lucius Malfoy has two sons. Draco Malfoy has a half-brother.

**PROGRESS  
**I'm nearly done with the first chapter, so I will post that either later today, or tomorrow for sure. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far!


	2. Brotherly Love

**DISCLAIMER  
**All recognizable characters and settings that appear in this story belong to JKR. The storyline and Gale Wallace belong to me, although I doubt you want to steal them. But don't.  
  
**REVIEWERS**   
_moonypadfoot_- Haha, I'm glad you thought it was scary... I was trying to make Voldemort into a vampire-type character.   
_Lady Norbert_- Thanks for pointing out my error in the prologue... no one has ever noticed that before, including myself, obviously. I'm glad someone noticed. Also, I'm sorry you were confused about Lucius's sons; this chapter will hopefully clear things up.   
_tattva_- I don't think this chapter has quite the same tense atmosphere, but I tried! Thanks for reviewing.  
  
**MISC.**   
Gale Wallace means "the stranger" in Celtic and Ophelia means "helper" in Greek... well, according to Babynames.com.

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**TAINTED LOVE**  
_A fanfiction by **poly styrene**_  
  
CHAPTER ONE: Brotherly Love  
  
Draco Malfoy eyed his half-brother warily. They sat on opposite sides of the parlor, and had spent the last half-hour determinedly looking anywhere but each other. After thirty minutes of stony silence, the two boys had begun to sneak furtive glances across the room, hurriedly losing interest if the other should look up.  
  
_For being my half-brother, we really look nothing alike_, thought Draco. They shared the same tall, lean figure, but the similarities ended there. Where Draco was almost sickeningly well-groomed, his half-brother was carelessly handsome. Draco was blonde, fair-skinned, and light-eyed; the other boy had such dark coloring that he appeared almost African at times.  
  
The parlor doors banged open, and Lucius stormed in. "Gale, Lord Voldemort wishes to see you." The boy's head snapped up, and he jumped eagerly from the fancy plush armchair he had been occupying.  
  
Lucius turned on his heel and strode out, ignoring his other son completely. Gale had reached the doors when he stopped and turned to Draco. "It was... er, very nice meeting you, Draco," he said, shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot.  
  
Draco forced himself, rather painfully, to smile. Gale smiled back and quietly closed the parlor door behind him. As soon as the door clicked shut, the false smile dropped like a fly.  
  
_How can they expect that mouse to carry out the plan?_ thought Draco bitterly. "He's got about as much charm as a brick wall," he said aloud softly.  
  
A house elf looked up from her dusting. "You are absolutely right, Master Draco. You really are far more charismatic."  
  
"Oh, come off it, Ophelia," groaned Draco, secretly pleased in spite of himself. "What do you know about human attractions? You're an elf!"  
  
"We observe far more than you know, Master Draco," Ophelia replied simply, finishing her task. "If Master does not require anything, I should return to the kitchens."  
  
Draco waved her away, calling after her, "Mind your mouth, Ophelia! Father hates house elves who talk back!" Of course, he knew she only acted like that around him, and he didn't mind. Ophelia could be fun to talk to. Of all the house elves that they owned, she was the only one he knew by name.  
  
He slumped back down in his chair, mildly disgusted with himself. _Resorting to conversations with a house elf, Draco? We are sinking quite low... This is what happens when one has no siblings, I suppose._ Suddenly, he sat upright. He did have a sibling, he realized. Gale Wallace had turned out to be his half-brother.  
  
_Figures_, he thought bitterly. _Father was always quite the voyeur. I wonder how many other half-siblings I have running around?_ What really bothered him about the situation was the fact that Voldemort had chosen the little shit over his father's rightful son. The illegitimate bastard was not only encroaching on what little attention that Draco actually received from his father, but he was also stealing the glory meant for Draco.  
  
_Gale Wallace is nothing special._ Draco strained his mind, trying to think of what Gale had done in terms of service for the Dark Lord. Nothing, absolutely nothing! No one ever noticed Gale Wallace. He had never even made his allegiance known.  
  
Suddenly, Draco smacked himself viciously in the forehead, startling a gasp from a nearby portrait of his mother. OF COURSE! Gale had been chosen BECAUSE he was overlooked, BECAUSE he had never paraded his loyalties around. He was the perfect secret weapon. Hell, Draco hadn't even known his real identity until an hour or so earlier.  
  
_Stupid, stupid arse, Draco_, he inwardly berated himself. _You should have known to keep a low profile._ He stalked off to his room to sort the messy situation out.  
  
**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
**  
Lucius threw open the double doors for the second time that morning. Eyeing the skinny, dark boy in front of him with distaste, he placed a hand between the protruding shoulder blades and shoved roughly.  
  
Gale stumbled into the room, shooting a backwards glare at his estranged father. He dusted off his shabby robes and faced the two figures at the windows defiantly. His mother was the first to look at him. She nodded elegantly to him, and a small smile crossed her lips.  
  
Encouraged, Gale cleared his throat.  
  
Voldemort turned.  
  
Draco was used to having the Dark Lord around, as Malfoy Manor had served as an important base for Voldemort ever since his revival. But Gale, who had been living with an elderly uncle until his mother's rather recent escape from Azkaban, had never been face-to-face with the Dark Lord.  
  
The red eyes locked his dark ones in a horrible, irresistible gaze. Gale gasped, feeling as though he had been punched extremely hard in the stomach. The room spun, and Gale had the odd, disturbing feeling that he could not move. He attempted to step backwards. No, he definitely could not move. He tried to look down at his feet and found that this too was suddenly impossible.  
  
A smug voice from behind him jolted him from the odd paralysis. He stumbled backwards and almost fell, but caught himself in time.  
  
"Bellatrix," sneered Lucius, unable to resist another dig at the volatile woman, "your son is far more well-behaved than you are. He did not struggle at all. Smart boy. He must get that from me."  
  
"Yes, you are quite the doormat, Lucius," spat Bellatrix, watching in satisfaction as Lucius's smirk was replaced by a stony glare. "But at least you finally acknowledge that he is, indeed, your son."  
  
Voldemort ignored his arguing supporters. He turned to Gale, whose posture suddenly showed great improvement. "You are a smart boy, Gale. You, unlike your headstrong and foolhardy half-brother, have managed to keep a low profile right under Dumbledore's nose. I hear that your mother has managed to fill you in?"  
  
Gale nodded, and his lip curled in disgust momentarily before being instantly hidden under a polite, social mask. Voldemort laughed, raising involuntary goosebumps along Gale's arms.  
  
"It is not the most ideal of assignments for you, I am sure. It will not be fun, as you most likely have imagined." Gale nodded grimly. He had imagined, and none of it had been pretty. "It is risky," continued the Dark Lord, "to allow so much to be placed in the hands of a sixteen-year- old boy." He stepped very close to Gale, and the boy found himself fighting the urge to gag as a putrid odor filled his nose. "Gale... if you succeed, you will become the most important follower that I will have ever had. If you fail..." Voldemort shrugged, a gesture full of silent menace. "...you will be disposed of, just like any other bumbling fool I have had the misfortune of relying on."  
  
Gale swallowed hard and nodded. Voldemort smiled. "Who is to be my target?" asked Gale. Voldemort lifted his want and a soft stream of pale pink light flowed from the tip, a glaring contrast with the wand's dark finish. Gale stared at the conjured image in disbelief and horror.  
  
"But... you can't mean... HER?!"  
  
**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
**  
Draco paced the floor of his elaborate bedroom, furious with himself. He was also suffering a near-cardiac arrest brought on by the odd combination of scorn, jealousy, and most of all, curiosity.  
  
What an odd twist of events this afternoon had become. Draco had only seen Gale Wallace in passing. The two had never spoken. Now, they were half-brothers, and they would be spending the rest of the summer together at the Manor; not because their parents wanted them to get to know each other, but because there really was no other place for Bellatrix and Gale to go.  
  
There was a quiet knock on the door, and Draco knew exactly who it would be. "Come in," he called, wondering if he would be expected to entertain Gale for the month of August.  
  
"Hi," called Gale softly, peering around the door. "Mind if I come in?"  
  
_Do I have a choice?_ "No, of course not. Come right in."  
  
Gale smiled broadly and closed the door behind him. "Sorry about barging in on you... the house elf told me where to find you."  
  
_Thanks a lot, Ophelia._ "Don't worry about it; the Manor can get pretty boring."  
  
Gale plopped down on a couch and stared out the window. "I dunno, you've got some pretty fascinating stuff around here."  
  
Draco shrugged, and they fell silent. Finally, he could no longer bear it. "Who is it, then? Who's your target?"  
  
Gale looked uneasy. "Well, I'm not really supposed to tell anyone..."  
  
Draco smirked. "Voldemort doesn't really care if you tell me. I know the plan already, and I'll be able to figure out who it is once we get to Hogwarts. This was supposed to be my job, you know."  
  
Gale shifted nervously, looking supremely uncomfortable. "Well, I dunno... I suppose it couldn't hurt any..."  
  
Draco's smile dropped suddenly, and he leaned very close to Gale and hissed, "Look. Your life depends on this. I can help you, if you let me know who it is. You don't want to take chances with your life because you were playing loyal, do you?"  
  
Gale sighed. "You're right." He glanced around. "Sure we can't be overheard?"  
  
Draco smiled, sensing that he was about to get his way. "Positive. All the rooms in this house are charmed against eavesdropping." Resigned, Gale turned and whispered in Draco's ear. The blond stood, eyes wide. "Oh, bugger. I don't envy that assignment after all." He walked over to his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. "You're going to need all the help you can get, mate."  
  
When Ophelia came to call the two boys down to dinner, she found them bent over the roll of parchment, scribbling furiously and snickering. "Master Draco, Master Gale..." The two boys sprang apart, and Draco hastily rolled the parchment up and stuck it in his robe pocket. "Dinner," called Ophelia. As Draco walked past her, she hissed, "Don't be doing something to land yourself in trouble, Master Draco. His Dark Lord will not be pleased if you interfere with the plan."  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "Give me some credit, Ophelia. I know what I'm doing." He jogged to catch up with Gale.

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE  
**Sorry, this chapter is pretty long! Thanks to all of those who reviewed before. If you enjoyed this (or even if you didn't) please review and let me know what you liked and/or what I could improve on. I haven't started the second chapter yet, but this story is coming pretty easily, so it shouldn't take too long. Thanks again! 


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